


Don’t you need a shirt with that?

by stellacanta



Series: Cornyx week 2k19 [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-26 07:17:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19763239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellacanta/pseuds/stellacanta
Summary: Day 3 Prompts: “I think that shirt looks better on you than it does me.” | Feral | They meet while Cor is helping people out of galahdCor was helping people onto the boat to take them to Insomnia when he noticed the young man wandering from the forests. His clothes were badly torn, and what was left was barely covering. He snarled at anyone who dared to get too close.So, of course, Cor did the next best thing and threw his shirt at him. “Keep it. I think that shirt looks better on you than it does on me.”





	Don’t you need a shirt with that?

**Author's Note:**

> oof this is really late, I apologize for that orz  
> I'm backdating this to the correct day because of that.

A shell exploded in the air a few meters away from the evacuation site. Cor raised his voice when the evacuees started screaming. “This way to the boats.” He glared at the soldiers stationed around the site as if that one simple action would somehow stop the bombs from falling. Above the treeline he could see smoke rising and a hint of fire. He turned back to his task at hand and helped an elderly lady and her granddaughter to the boats they had lined up the pair of rickety wooden piers that had clearly seen better days.

The young lady was crying and the words to comfort her got lodged in his throat. Cor swallowed and helped the pair of them onto one of the fishing boats that had been roped into evacuations. There was a commotion from somewhere behind him, and it wasn’t until he heard the sound of the soldiers shouting at someone to stop that he turned around to see what it was. He raised an eyebrow when he saw what the cause was. How couldn’t he? Just past the treeline stood a boy a bit younger than him with torn clothing and cuts and bruises. He snarled at people who approached him and snarled in response to the orders given to him.

He sighed and found himself walking towards the boy, refusing to be cowed by the glare and bared teeth. When he was not more than a few steps from the boy, he took off his shirt and threw it at him.

The shirt hit the boy in the face. A moment passed before the boy removed it from his face and looked down at it, and then to Cor, in confusion. “Keep it,” he said by way of explanation. “I think that shirt looks better on you than it does on me.” 

He went back to helping the other evacuees towards the boat and promptly forgot the boy in tattered clothing. (It was only much later when he had returned to Insomnia that he heard about the boy getting onto one of the boats with the rest of the Galahdians.)

…

The Galahdian refugees took over a little corner of Insomnia and made it all their own. Cor found himself stopping by often. The food was good in Little Galahd, and cheap, which was just about all he could ask for. Some of the people he saved would stop him on the streets to catch up, and Cor liked hearing about how they had been doing since the evacuation. Inevitably, he would always end up with an armful of flowers that he struggled to keep alive before the week was up afterwards.

In Little Galahd, he would sometimes catch sight of a familiar and a somewhat familiar young man wearing it. The man seemed to always slip out of his fingers before he could ask him for a chat over bad beer and good food.

The day that Regis announced the creation of the Kingsglaive, Cor was there to witness the reaction from the refugees. He wasn’t surprised when the young man wearing his old beat-up shirt was one of the first to sign up. (It was at sign ups that he got a name, Nyx Ulric.)

…

Nyx was up watching the morning news when he wandered into his living room with a yawn. “Morning,” the glaive said by way of greeting. “Coffee’s in the kitchen.” He gave a nod of thanks and made his way there, pouring himself a cup before wandering back to join Nyx on the couch. 

The glaive had taken to staying longer and longer at his place ever since he asked him to stay over a little over two weeks ago. They had been meeting up for beer for long before then, until Cor finally decided to bite the bullet. He and Nyx were both men of action, Nyx a bit more impulsive than he was, and they got along well. 

He had also noticed that Nyx’s things seemed to be slowly migrating to his place and he wondered when would be a good time to pop the question to ask him to move in. They listened to the news in silence as Cor slowly sipped his coffee. He saw Nyx shift out of the corner of his eye and it was only then that he noticed the shirt that Nyx had on, the one he threw at him all those years ago.

“You still kept it huh,” he asked without clarifying what he meant.

Nyx turned to him with a wolfish smile. “It looks nice on me,” he said as if it explained everything (and perhaps it did). “Plus I like the way it feels.”  Cor chuckled and slung an arm over Nyx’s shoulder. Nyx snuggled closer to him. "Oh, and did I mention it smells nice?" He snorted and the ensuing conversation immediately devolved into a discussion about laundry detergent and fabric softener.


End file.
